Found Fate
by lunaroux
Summary: Eve grew up, knowing she was different but The Village tried to mold her into their perfect child. That's not how it ended up, unfortunately for them. She ends up in Gotham, ready to raise a little hell and make a name for herself, to hell with anyone or anything stopping her. Is it any wonder she catches the Jokers eye? Slow burn Joker/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**We don't see the Joker in this chapter; I wanted us to get an introduction of just her! Enjoy.**

Eve was bored. She placed her shoes beside her as she dipped her feet into the cold water, barely noticing the stinging sensation as the open cuts were assaulted by the cold water.

She thought back to what she'd read several years earlier - the conspiracy documents by this point were imbedded into her brain. "Government mishap with adding chemicals into the water is the reason for this sudden change." That one was her favourite, making out that it was a horrific _accident._

Well her second favourite.

Her first favourite was that it was aliens.

"It doesn't matter," Eve said out loud, hearing footsteps heading towards her. She'd given up on her great lie so she decided she should also give up on her mental filter. She was after all, sick of having to keep her thoughts to herself. Leaving them on their own, rattling around her skull with no one else's thoughts to keep them company.

"Like what triggered meta-humans, or the increase in pure evil. It happened and there ain't no going back from it," she cackled. "They tried."

"Have you been reading those articles again? You know we're not allowed." Marcus said as he sat down beside her, raising his eyebrows.

Eve turned and finally acknowledged him properly. She actually felt sorry for the young man. It must be so boring. Being satisfied with living a dull life, being unaffected by The Change.

"I remember the articles, I don't need to read them again," she said off handily, rolling her eyes at him before facing the water again. "Maybe there wasn't even a Change. Maybe _certain_ people opened their eyes and got bored of scurrying around like ants that were just waiting for their misery to end."

"I've always said you can talk to me," Marcus began and Eve scoffed. Marcus however being the ignorant soul he was continued, his voice full of concern. "But if you are having these thoughts you should talk to the Mastor. He can help."

"Ah yes, positive programming. Maybe that is what I need," Eve bit down hard on her lip to stop herself from bursting into laughter and revealing all, she wanted to play a bit more after all.

"I just get annoyed," she said, turning back to Marcus and plastering on her genuine and innocent smile, something in her twenty one years of living she'd become excellent at. "Like we were both born at the start of The Change, or so they tell us, assuming The Change is even real. But regardless, they say we were born at the start when no one else was affected, but there will still good and bad men, less extreme, true but these men still exist. They're not concerned with that though, our parents, that village, they are only concerned with true damaging good or evil. Even then," she exclaimed, unable to hold in the manic laughter any longer but able to choke out. "They expect us to be neutral."

Eve's laughter became more hysterical until she had to clutch into her sides, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"You're scaring me," Marcus said with apprehension but still not moving.

Idiot.

"Oh Marcus, are you even listening?" She snapped, her laughter stopping instantly. "I'm saying it doesn't work. The village, the lessons about morality and thinking they could change me. Or anyone likes me, including your sister. Or are you going to tell me you think differently? Not that what you think actually fucking matters," She was almost shouting now. "Because you're boring, _unaffected_ , Marcus who got fragged along because of his pure and good sister."

"What did you do?" he whispered, his eyes wide with terror. If Eve was honest she was disappointed. She was looking forward to the chase, but it didn't look like he had the good sense to try and escape to this would have to do.

With her superior strength and surprise on her side, she grabbed him, flinging his whole body into the water as she stood. The water creeping to the top of her thigh, soaking the edge of her dress.

As she thrashed in the water Eve kept a tight grip on his hair, forcing his face in the water, she began laughing; she couldn't believe she thought that this would be disappointing.

When his desperate thrashing began to slow down, she wound a handful of his copper hair and pulled his head out of the water, she wasn't about to let him die without letting him know the best bit. That would be rude, and he had listened to her rant after all.

"It started at breakfast," she began as he started gasping for air. "After training. I just wanted some damn coffee but it was all ' _No Eve Mastor says coffee isn't good for people with your condition.'_ And I don't know if it's because she called it a condition or I just really wanted coffee but I took that mug and smashed it into her face. Ya' shoulda been there, the blood the sound," Eve described gleefully. "Then I moved onto Daddy-o, the Mastor, the teachers, the school is burning as we speak. So glad you saw my text and came here first."

"Please," Marcus groaned. She could feel him struggling under grip, she barely noticed though, the joy she felt coursing through her veins was unparalleled.

"Please," Eve mocked before forcing his head back underwater. "Please what? Don't kill you? That's the point. "She muttered, forcing him to remain underwater until she was satisfied he was dead.

She climbed out to the lake, scooping her shoes up as she walked barefoot towards the nearest road, leaving what little was lead of her conscience, morality, _sanity_ , by the dead body in the lake.

Eve clapped her hands together joyfully as the car entered the city of Gotham.

Through her limited research and what she'd heard about it, she knew it was well worth the long journey.

She already understood the four types of people who inhabited the city.

Type one: Normal people. Those born here, and through poverty or family they were stuck in the dangerous town, unable to leave and struggling to survive.

Type two: They very type of people she'd be searching for tomorrow. Henchmen. People who had no desire to fit into society's expectation of what they should be doing. People whose conscious were kept silent for the thrill of adventure and money.

Type three: Those who she possibly despised the most. Those who were in it for the money; be it business men finding loopholes to exploit those who fell into type one. Or those who ran a criminal enterprise for the money, with no finesse and/or love of the profession, turning it into money making scheme.

Then there was type four: People like her. People who were affected by the change. Villains who were just as rotten through and through just like her. Eve thought with a smile. Then there were those who were the opposite. "Good". Though if you asked Eve they liked violence just as much as she did. They were just too cowardly to commit, let themselves do what they want, too confined by their morals, as if it absolved them of all of their violent actions.

Eve didn't need to be absolved.

Her fingers twitched around the knife. A sharp butcher's knife that she'd acquired when she sped through the village. She refrained the urge to kill any of the people who'd given her lift to Gotham, who knew hitchhiking was so easy?

She stifled her urges again. No murder she reminded herself, she couldn't risk it. Gotham was a long walk and she didn't want word to spread that motorists were being murdered, making them nervous to pick her up.

"Here it is thank you!" Eve spoke up, turning to face the middle aged driver. She'd noticed his lack of a wedding ring and the way his eyes roamed up and down her body and wondered if anyone would miss him.

"You sure?" He asked, incredulously looking up at the large ornate house in front of them.

"Yep," she smiled, silencing the man. She climbed out of the car; she waited until the man drove off before approaching the house.

She rang the doorbell, shifting the rucksack on her shoulders, her hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of her knife.

Within a few seconds the door opened and she recognised the man in front of her.

Gabriel Mansoini.

An accountant to who worked for some of the dodgiest businesses in Gotham. Convenient to her he also lived totally alone.

She assumed that had something to do with the numerous rape charges against him that were always mysteriously doped.

All of that information she'd learnt would only serves to make this sweeter.

"I'm so sorry to bother you sir," she said in the saddest voice she could muster while he was leering at her. "But my boyfriend literally just dumped me and kicked me out of his car, didn't even give me the chance to grab my handbag or anything. Could I call a friend to pick me up, it's too dangerous to walk back on my own."

"Of course," he said and Eve had to choke back a manic laughter, it was the hundredth time in the past few days she had to do that since accepting her madness and she was excited to give up their pretence.

She trailed behind him into his luxurious house, pretending to be too naive to understand what his glances meant. He picked up the landline, going to hand it to her but snatching it out of her grasp once she reached out for it.

"I hope you don't mind me saying, bit that boy is a fool, you're simply beautiful dear. I'd never do such a thing."

Eve smiled; he must have thought that smile meant something good for him because he smiled back. Oh how wrong he was. Eve pulled the knife from its hiding spot and in one powerful movement, dragged the knife across his throat.

She watched, giggling to herself as she watched his hands desperately _pathetically_ try and stop the flow of blood.

Her laughter carried on long after he was dead, her own hands ending up covered in his blood. She watched with joy filled eyes as the blood stained the surfaces of his house. She watched with glee as it stained the expensive Egyptian cotton bedsheets, as she quickly fell asleep.

 **Please review! Next chapter there may be Joker? Who knows, it'll be soon though! In what situation do you want him or Eve to meet?**


	2. Chapter 2

Eve sauntered into the bar with a smile plastered on her face. When she was wondering down the Narrows it was easy to get the information she needed. She was petite and with the soft black curls clashing with the white dress she'd found in the wardrobe earlier, most people paid her no mind. Especially when talking about getting henchmen or other unsavoury activities they had planned.

That was how she found herself in Maidens Head.

 _Such an unremarkable name_ she thought to herself, it was obvious though that the place was home to scumbags, with mugshots framing one wall and the random blood splatters she noticed immediately.

She cleared her throat loudly, there were only six men in the bar, _it was early_ , and one was the bartender so it looked like there were only five potential henchmen here.

 _Wouldn't be a bad start_.

"Hello gentlemen! I have a proposition for you."

That certainly got their attention, each of them stopping what they were doing and turning to face her, except the bartender who continued with whatever boring task he was doing before she walked through the door. Eve tried her hardest to not be offended; he must hear plenty of grand proposals from people trying to hire these men.

"What could you have to offer us lil lady? You sure you wanna play with the big boys?" One of them asked, and Eve let out a loud laugh. The other four men wisely kept their mouths shut, ready to see what, if anything happened to the man who was so rude.

Eve pulled the long knife out, the same one she'd stolen from the village. It wasn't beautiful and terrifying about ones she had fantasied about, but it was deadly and she'd formed a sentimental attachment to it.

With the knife out she began to pace towards the man with a wide smile. He was, stupidly, not scared by this and instead lounged back in his chair, looking as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"I'm offering a reprieve from mundane life," she pouted, circling his chair. "The chance to do something fun, get some money. You know _live a little dear_. Not that you need to worry about that," she said before breaking into a fit of laughter. She waited until he tensed up, his expression nervous before she tightened the grasp on her knife, staring into his eyes as she plunged the blade repeatedly into his gut, humming gleefully at the sounds that escaped his throat – as well as the sound of punctured flesh.

She took a step back, and watched the blood start to gather on the floor before he fell out of the chair with a thud. She lifted her head up and was pleased to see that the barman hadn't missed a beat and continued cleaning – thank god.

She lifted the knife to her face and smiled widely at the blood which stained it now before walking towards the other men. All of them were tense and watching Eve the way someone may watch a lioness that was pacing towards them. Because of that they all gained her favour, she was under no illusions that if they decided to they could fight her; her chances of winning were slim. Thanks to her small frame that was something she had to accept, although she was deceptively strong. Her silver tongue, her greatest gift; that of manipulation hopefully meant that it wouldn't come to that.

"I do hope he wasn't your friend," she mocked. "What do you say to my offer? So long as you do what you're told you shouldn't meet the same _unfortunate_ fate."

She watched the remaining men share a look before each of them nodded.

"Wonderful," she exclaimed, putting the knife back in its holster. "I'm Eve."

They all told her their names in turn, and she promptly forgot all of them as soon as they said it, not caring enough abou them to remember such things.

"So," she directed their attention to the new corpse on the floor. "I need a trademark, and am welcome to suggestions."

In all her time she'd never thought about this, her brain always got caught up when it came to the actual act of killing that she'd never considered how to make her mark. She knew she was vain, she'd stopped trying to change that about herself years ago, and she wanted all the credit to go to her every time she murdered someone. She doubted anyone would care about the man she'd just killed, even if they did manage to find his body but just in case, she wanted him to be the first one she'd kill with the mark on him. She idly considered going back to the house she'd stayed the night in and giving him a mark too, but she'd done such a good job of making it look like a robbery gone wrong – she also didn't want to anger the mafia – not yet. That could wait until she had a few more henchmen to do her bidding.

She was thinking big after all.

She looked around at each of their faces with a smile as they all peered down at the dead man.

"Well?" She asked, curious as to what they'd say.

"You could give him a creepy smile like yours?" One of the henchmen – Shortie – she decided to christen him thanks to his disappointing height, (he was the same height as her, which for a man must be unfortunate) said quietly.

Eve fixed her gaze on him and his face went red when he realized she heard. She didn't move for a few seconds, thinking it was only right to scare him before she began laughing.

"Cute but no, Joker already does that and I'm not a copycat of nobody," Eve pointed out, nudging the corpse with her shoe, waiting for inspiration to hit her.

"What about taking out his eyeballs?" Another piped up, and Eve hummed in reply thinking about it. When she thought to the future though, all the people she planned on destroying her mind supplier her with the daydream of opening a door and eyeballs just pouring out filling the room, covering her entirely.

"What would I do with all the eyeballs once I take them out?" She asked out loud, dismissing the idea when no one had a good answer.

"You could carve like an 'E' into his head?" Shortie spoke up again, clearly trying to win her favour.

"I could, would be a good way to take the credit," Eve grinned, pressing the knife into the dead man's head, making in her opinion, a work of art.

"Well well well," Eve heard a voice drawl behind her, interrupting her admiration of her art. "What do we have here?"

 **Feel free to leave reviews (I love them) but I hope you enjoy! xo**


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